Having spent the first forty years of my life in Bolton, it will always hold a special place in my heart. All my memories are there. I was born and brought up there, both Jellybeans were born in Bolton and spent most of their childhoods there. Bolton has changed a lot in the twelve years since we emigrated south to the warmer climes of Hampshire. I remember the town centre mainly, through the rose tinted glasses of my teenage years. We have visited the town over the years on many occasions, with trips mainly being taken up with visiting family and friends, we have probably only ventured into the centre once or twice since we moved.
Our caravan was snuggled up in the Caravan and Motorhome Club Site, Burrs Country Park in Bury for this year’s annual pilgrimage. Being here for just short of two weeks we decided to take a mooch down memory lane as well as visiting the rellies.
Just ten miles out of Manchester, an old cotton mill town, Bolton has some magnificent architecture that the teenage me just took for granted.
With my Clippercard in hand, I would brave any weather to stand at the bus stop looking chic, with my pocket money and any leftover dinner money safely tucked away in my backpack. The focal point of Town Hall Square is the Town Hall, which is surrounded by two imposing lions and steps. When we were small, our grandfather told us that the lions patrol the town late at night while Bolton sleeps, ensuring everyone’s safety. Would that it were real. I had many Saturday afternoons when I would meet friends by the now-gone fountains and sit on the Town Hall steps talking about the newest trends in fashion, boys, music, our favorite incense, and joss sticks while exhaling strongly of patchouli oil.
Behind the Town Hall is ‘Le Mans Crescent’, named after the twin town, another architectural delight, complete with original cobbles. Used in filming on countless occasions for period dramas, including the more recently Peaky Blinders. Home to the magistrates court which now sadly appears up for sale, the library, aquarium and museum where on cold, wet Saturday afternoon, we would gather in the cafe sharing a hot chocolate.
Back in the day Bolton was home to three major record shops where we would congregate to see what was being played and which single was going to be lucky enough to be worthy of our weekly pocket money. Derek Guests, Tracks and a little bit later HMV came to town. Tracks was my choice of record shop in which to be seen. I was known to buy my singles in the Co-op though, they were 10p cheaper, then transfer them to a Tracks bag to appear ‘cool.’ The only evidence of any of my record shops now is HMV, standing cold, dark, empty and unloved.
McAlister. where everything started. The course of my life would have been entirely different had it not been for this unique building. Maybe in the future, we’ll be able to take a quick peek at the staff and kitchen areas in the back to reminisce.
Walking away from McDonalds, Fred Dibnah, steeplejack,stands tall and proud, with a cheeky grin on his face. One of Bolton’s national treasures. Behind him a great glass encased steam engine, a reminder of the town’s history and roots.
The Market Hall, which was once a bustling hub of activity and retail, seemed to have lost some of its history, vitality, and possibly even soul when we were last here, which was probably six years or more ago. We are pleasantly surprised that, as of right now, there seems to be a buzz again, and stores that were deserted during our last visit are now proudly decked out in Christmas décor and open for business. Over the past few years, some significant work has been done on it.
The Vaults are in the open now. After undergoing renovations and having its original brick arches exposed, what was once a basement in the building’s interior where stall holders likely kept extra inventory is now a restaurant and cafe with a crazy golf course, soft play area, and movie theater thrown in for good measure. The building is decorated with classic Bolton sayings, such as “Dost tha want summat t’eyt?” “This place has some really delicious food.” Enjoy a little bit of vintage Lancy Twang.
The old Arndale Centre remains pretty much the same, the budgies in a huge central cage went years ago, as did the shops of my youth, Chelsea Girl, C&A and an open fronted newsagents where I’d pick up my Record Mirror. With more up to date shops and very little in the way of seating, the 15 year old me can still relate to the building.
Time to go back. We’ve walked my Mum’s little legs off. We’ve not spent much, a couple of cakes to have with a cup of strong builders tea later and a whist pie for The Boss to munch on as he traipses round behind us.
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